


Fix.

by AlyssaKendall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Impala Fic, Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Masturbation, make Sam leave for a little bit to give Dean some privacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:26:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssaKendall/pseuds/AlyssaKendall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean maximizes his time alone by masturbating (jerking off, fapping, however you want to phrase it) in his car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InitialA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InitialA/gifts).



> So, let's make it known right now that I'm only just now finishing the first season of SPN. It's still very shiny and new to me, and I'm still learning a lot about these lovely characters. I haven't been introduced yet to the likes of some of these folks I hear many people talk about, so all I have right now are a couple of brothers. I very heavily wear the slash goggles, and of course I'm all for Wincest as it's called around here, but my two friends that share the fandom with me do /not/ Wincest (I know, right? Blasphemy!) and so...here I am with some feign attempt at "Dean-is-attracted-to-girls" or some bullshit like that. Roll with it. Also, how 'bout that studly car? ((Dedicated to Initial A because I can. Suck it.))
> 
> Oh, and classic rock is sex.

_“Yeah, we’re runnin’ a little bit hot tonight_  
I can barely see the road from the heat comin’ off  
I reach down between my legs, and ease the seat back…” -Van Halen, "Panama" 

It was Sam’s turn, as much as he needed conviction in the first place. Sam’s turn to head out to the seediest bar in the county, and bring home as much cash and pick-pocketed credit cards as he could physically – or, well, in Sam’s case – mentally manage. Neither of them had slept, but Sam was a little more wired. After convincing him to take his damned laptop to do some research – and not to come back to the Impala without at least a six-pack and three hundred dollars – Dean was finally alone with his baby. It would give him roughly four hours to do whatever he needed to do on his own. Take a shit, take a nap, take a shower, take a phone call…take some time for himself. 

He felt himself yawn as he looked through the windshield at the front steps of a potential lodging for the night. The fact of the matter was that the credit card he had originally planned to use was already canceled by its original owner, and the truck stop was another eighteen miles he didn’t plan to drive down the road. Not worth the waste of gas anyway. He loved his car, but she was a hungry little thing. Instead he found himself looking through the windows, trying to decide what he wanted to do next. He could join Sam of course. He could look through his father’s journal for about the three-thousandth time. Or, he could simply sit in his car and relax. None of the options really seemed to jolt him out of his lethargy.

He hadn't been paying close attention to anything. Nothing particularly seemed out of the ordinary and he’d lost himself in a thoughtless blank stare. It took a sudden slamming door and the angry, high pitched shouts from a young woman to jolt him back to thought. Eyes widening, he looked upon the scene. A thin brunette, hair pulled back into a messy bun, and olive skin. Tits pressed up into a small black crop top, and matching black yoga pants that gave a perfect outline of her ass. Dean sighed. A young man followed after her. He could barely make out their voices. 

“You always make me stay in these cheap dumps! Am I not worth more than that?! I hate you!” 

“Baby, please…” he could hear the young man’s response. “Just a few more nights, I promise!”

Dean felt his hand go toward the door handle. Seconds away from interfering, if only to ensure the young woman’s safety. But the longer he watched and listened, the more it was clear to him that she was simply spoiled and high-maintenance. The urge to interfere subsided, replaced again by lethargy…or something like it. Within a few short moments, the couple held each other. Dean’s eyes traced over her figure. She was, in fact gorgeous. Face, legs, boobs, and caboose. The young man slipped his hand close to her ass and Dean felt his lips turn up into a faint grin. “Get it, buddy.” 

A small sigh as the couple kissed and then the young man led his lady back into the room, holding his arm around her waist. An exhale through his nose as he pressed his lips together. No, Dean couldn't deny it. It had been way too long since he’d had a fix. 

It was a twinge he’d felt between his legs as he made a small growl. Casual sex was something in which he had perfected and turned into a fine art. He had done fine on his own, managing himself in dive bars, shitty diners, and college frat parties. A small goal of finding a hook-up in nearly every city in which he’d stopped had come to a screeching halt once Sam joined the picture. And while Sam meant the world to him, the fact of the matter was that it was keeping him from getting the one thing he was craving: laid. 

Another twinge in his pants and he groaned audibly – not that there was anyone around to hear. He was looking forward to a night in the hotel room. Hoping maybe he could bring a girl back from the lodge up front, or if nothing else, could give him time to himself to really sprawl out on his bed and make some noise. Sure, he could get it in during his showers in the morning, but having Sam on the other side of a paper-thin wall made it near hopeless. His younger brother consistently nagging that he was going to use up the hot water, or that he had to piss, or brush his teeth, or that he wanted his turn. Dean sighed again. He wasn't used to going this long without _something._

He let his hand slip over his hips and down to his crotch. Adjusting himself in the seat. Thinking about it too much was enough to nearly arouse him. He glanced around. He was in a parking spot far away back from the building, it was getting darker outside by the second, and no one else was even close to being around. Surely, he could manage something, something quick, but still better than one of his “shower” sessions, which he couldn't even enjoy. A twinge of guilt pricked at the back of his neck, and he felt his breathing grow a bit more rapid. He shouldn't do this…but he needed to. 

He glanced around once more as he rubbed his hand over the front of his pants again. Steadying his breath, but now he could feel his heart racing. The familiar twinge in his pants feeling more like an ache this time. He was getting harder, and he couldn't help himself. Thoughts of the girl he’d seen earlier. Thoughts of running his hands over her ass, squeezing and touching as he buried his face in her breasts. He could make her so wet, he could make her moan his name, he could make her forget entirely about the old, scratchy bed and worn-out carpets in the shitty motel room. Fuck, he was hard. Another glance around as he slowly began to undo his belt, button, and fly. 

There was no one around to be seen, and Dean knew he only needed a short amount of time. He reached to the side of his seat for a moment and eased it back only a fraction before reaching back down between his legs. One hand rubbing his thigh to create some friction, the other slowly pulling his cock out from his open fly, rubbing his fingers only over the tip for now. He let out an audible breath and felt his eyes shut for just a moment. Fuck, he needed this. 

He knew he had to keep a look-out over the lot and abandon ship if anyone came remotely close to the Impala. His fingers still stroking over just the head of his cock leading him to only desire more. He rubbed his thumb in small circles over the tip, and felt his hips press up a bit. He gripped his thigh tightly in his other hand. A gasp, whispering aloud, “Get a hold of yourself, Dean…” 

He slowly began to work his hand lower, stroking along his length. Half in his pants, half out, the side of his hand brushing against the zipper, but he could hardly care. A small groan as he worked from the base of his cock all the way to the tip. He let his jaw drop a bit, a feeble attempt to keep himself quiet.

A small blink as he looked around again. Safe in his car, he wouldn't be found. A fix, a small slice of pleasure for himself, indulging in something his body had been craving more than he could have guessed. He squeezed his cock as he worked his way up. It would've been better if he had a little lotion, a little lube, something – but in a jam with an opportunity like this, he would take what he could get – or couldn't get, for that matter. 

His eyes briefly shutting again as he thought about how much he missed female companionship. Squeezing and licking up a nice pair of tits, nipping and sucking on that soft flesh…god, he missed it. Pulling her up on top of him, letting her ride his cock and he worked his hips up against her, deeper. Feeling how wet he could make her. 

This time he couldn't stifle his own moan. Shifting back and forth in his seat, he worked his hips harder into his hand. Gripping tighter as he stroked himself. _God,_ he was so horny. _Fuck,_ he needed to come. His breathing growing more rapid, low moans and gasps as he felt the sensation slowly starting in his abdomen. He thought of how good that pussy felt, grabbing her tits and sucking her nipples as he rode him. Hell, if he could fuck her in this front seat, he would. Gripping his own thigh tighter and pressing his head back against the seat to try and get control of himself, he knew he wasn't going to last. His cock twitched, as he squeezed the tip of his cock one final time before he felt the wave of release. He moaned out as he came into his own hand. God, he needed that…

His body felt electrified for a moment, and then heavy. His hands were a mess and if he didn't do something about it within the next three seconds, he’d have a very obvious mess on the front of his pants too. Struggling to sit up, he managed to reach for the glove compartment. A few left over napkins were pressed toward the back, and he managed to reach them just in time to clean up the small mess. His pants were salvaged, but it took a few more minutes to will himself to buckle everything back up. Another lazy glance around the lot told him that he was safe and unseen. 

He eased the seat back a little further when he heard his phone go off. A text alert. He groaned as he tried to remember what he did with that damn thing. The passenger’s seat, oh yeah. 

Opening the bright screen, he growled a small “fuck!” as the light pricked at his eyes. A short message from Sam: “Which room?” 

“No room” he texted back before closing the phone and dropping it back against the seat. He was too tired to explain, and Sam must have figured it out because instead of sending another message, this time the phone rang.

“Huh?” Dean responded. 

“What do you mean, ‘no room’?” 

“I mean no room,” he yawned, “credit card declined, I don’t got any cash…you got something?”

“Damn it!” came the response. “Yeah, I’ll spot us tonight…why didn't you tell me sooner?” 

He shrugged as though Sam could see him. “I dunno, I thought I’d let you have a little fun?”

“Bullshit, you thought you’d have a little fun.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He smirked as he spoke the words, a lazy grin on his face. “Look, I’m in the car and in the lot of the motel. I’ll see ya when you get back here.” He closed the phone and this time he dropped it on the seat for real. He wasn't picking it back up. Instead he just shook his head and grinned as he relaxed the seat back a little further. He was prepared to deal with an irritated Sam and only lord-knows-how-many-days of hunting a possessed spirit in a backwoods town. But right now, he was going to enjoy the last little bit of his time to himself, before he was ready to get back to the grind.


End file.
